


Everybody’s Got to Start Somewhere

by ivyfic



Category: Constantine
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-05
Updated: 2005-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyfic/pseuds/ivyfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chas’s first exorcism. Set before the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody’s Got to Start Somewhere

Chas pulled the cab up to the curb in front of a run-down one-story house a few miles outside of Los Angeles. In the backseat, Constantine took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt at the sagging chainlink fence that circled the property. He opened the cab door and Chas sighed pointedly. Here they were for another exorcism, or rather here John was for an exorcism. It looked like Chas was going to be left in the cab. Again. He pushed his cap up to scratch at his curls, already starting the debate about how hot he would let it get in the cab before he turned the engine to idle. Gas was expensive, and if Chas rolled down all the windows and John was quick, he might be able to stand the heat without the A/C. But damn, it must be at least 90 degrees out today and the sun was radiating through the windows.

John paused at the latch to the fence and strode back to the car. He leaned in the passenger window. “Hey, kid. You coming?” John didn’t wait for an answer; he just turned around and started for the fence again.

Chas was so surprised he couldn’t get a coherent affirmitive out. He made a sound that he hoped didn’t sound too much like a squack, and simultaneously tried to remove the key, unlatch his seatbelt and pop open the door. He got his arm caught in the seatbelt and tripped over the doorframe, making a kind of lunge for the pavement. Chas righted himself with as much dignity as he could manage and dashed around the car before remembering to pretend like he wasn’t overeager. John hadn’t even glanced over his shoulder, though Chas could swear his shoulders were shaking just the tiniest bit.

Chas caught the gate before it latched and walked as quickly as he could without actually running until he was at John’s shoulder. He felt he should say something – “thank you thank you thank you” was what came to mind. Chas thought that would sound a little too childish. He settled for, “So you think I’m finally ready?” Chas mentally kicked himself for the self-doubt in that statement and his mouth continued moving before his mind could catch up. “I mean of course I’m ready – you wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t ready – and I really am. Ready I mean.”

John waited for Chas to peter out, and the side of his mouth quirked up a notch. “Everybody’s got to start somewhere, kid.”

John rang the doorbell. The light teal paint was cracked and peeling around the decorative frosted glass of the front door. Classy. John tapped out another cigarette while Chas heard someone large shuffling to the door.

The door opened a crack and an eye peered out from above the chain. “You the exorcist?”

John just nodded, and the door shut briefly as the occupant slid back the chain. The man opened the door wide for them and gestured the two inside, not giving Chas a second look.

Whoever this guy was, he looked terrible. He was tall and overweight, balding with a combover that hadn’t actually been combed over, the long hair on one side trailing over his shoulder. He wore a sweat-stained wifebeater and grey sweatpants, and when Chas brushed past him he caught a noseful of B.O. – and something vaguely nauseating. Chas strategically place John between himself and the man.

“I’m Bernard,” he said. “I, uh, I don’t know where you’d like to set up.” Bernard looked at the leather case John carried on all his jobs. “I prepared an area for you – I don’t know if it’s what you’re used to,” Bernard paused as if waiting for further instructions from John. John just took a drag from his cigarette and looked at the man. The gaze seemed to make him uncomfortable. “Well, why don’t we, uh… it’s just in here.” Chas wondered what “it” was.

Bernard led them toward the back of his house. His manner was both furtive and eager, as if he was in the presence of some rock god and he wanted to make sure he didn’t dissapoint. Chas could sympathize with the feeling.

Bernard stopped in a small utility room at the back off his house. The walls were unfinished, the studs and insulation visible. There was black spray paint on the panes of the one narrow window so that the only light was from the bare bulb in the ceiling. A tired water heater hunched in the corner. Underneath the lightbulb was a folding wooden chair, surrounded on the floor by spread newspapers. Chas didn’t want to know what those were supposed to be for. Scattered about on the newspapers were crucifixes and saints’ medallions – the kind you’d by as charms from the gift shop at a cathedral. Chas found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. Where was the demon supposed to be? In the water heater?

Bernard looked eagerly at John again, and when John said nothing, he took a little breath and sat on the chair. He leaned to one side a little, not resting against the back of the chair, as if this was a job interview he was nervous about. Chas was a little nervous himself. John had never asked him along on an exorcism before; Chas didn’t know quite what to expect. He’d read about them, sure, he’d been reading about demonology for a little over a year now. But now that he was about to see one, he felt a few butterflies. And John hadn’t told him what he should do. Should he just watch? Was John expecting him to help? Chas hung back in the doorway, guessing it was option 1, but mentally ran through a few Latin exorcism rites just in case. It was like a pop quiz back in school, and he wanted to – he _had_ to – ace this one.

Bernard shifted uneasily under Constantine’s still silent regard. “I used to be a plumber,” he started hesitantly. John might have nodded, or he might just have been taking the cigarette from between his lips. Whatever it was, Bernard took it as a confirmation, and started talking more quickly. “But I started to drink, some, and I lost my job. I used to go to church all the time, but I just sort of stopped and then I –“ he paused and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I started a life of debauchery.” His eyes were wide, his voice hushed. “I get these urges. I went to bars, and I’d bring home whoever was there – women, sometimes men. I never asked their names. And I…” He paused, mustering his courage. “I can’t stop masturbating. Four, five times a day.”

So that had been the nauseating smell, Chas thought and took a small step back. John just implacably smoked his cigarette. Bernard was possessed? Chas had been expected something – more dramatic. Not this pathetic, dirty man.

“I tried everything. I even moved, thought a change of scenery might – but it didn’t! And then I realized – it’s so obvious! Satan made me stop going to church, and the rest of it – it’s not me it’s – and so I called you. You’re gonna put me right?”

John dropped his cigarette, stamping it out on the newspapers. He set his case down on the floor and knelt beside it, extracting a large wooden crucifix. Bernard breathed out and seemed to relax a little. He shook his shoulders a few times, bracing himself. Chas looked between the two figures. If this went according to the books, first would be the provocation where John would make the demon manifest. Then, when he’d determined what kind it was, he would begin the exorcism.

John stepped forward, brandishing the cross. “I enjoin you, Ancient Serpent! In the name of the Creator of the World, show yourself!” John spoke calmly and forcefully, placing the cross against Bernard’s forehead.

Nothing.

John withdrew a flask of holy water from his coat pocket, popped the cork and splashed the water into Bernard’s face.

All hell broke loose. Bernard bellowed and knocked the cross aside. John grabbed it from where it had fallen to the floor and pressed it again into Bernard’s flesh. Bernard writhed and lurched to the floor, yipping like a toy dog. John didn’t relent, kneeling beside him, cross outstretched, he whispered, “This is Constantine. John Constantine, asshole.”

Bernard hissed. John straightened up and began in a commanding voice, “I exorcise you, Most Unclean Spirit! All Spirits! In the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ: Be uprooted and expelled from this Creature of God.”

Bernard thrashed and clawed, his flailing arms reaching out to where Chas stood at the threshold of the room. Chas leaped back, startled, but John looked completely unperturbed. “He who commands you is He who ordered you to be thrown down from the highest Heaven into the depths of Hell.”

Bernard twisted away from John and half lunged, half crawled across the room. In his haste, he banged his shoulder hard into the water heater, which rocked with a hollow clang. John took advantage of his distraction to flip him over and pin him, straddling his chest. He began again, “God the Father commands you. God the Son commands you. God the Holy Spirit commands you. The faith of the Holy Apostles, Peter and Paul, and the other saints commands you. The blood of Martyrs commands you.”

Bernard was cawing like a bird, strange, inhumanly shrill sounds that made Chas’s teeth chatter. “God of Heaven! God of Earth! God of Angels! God of Prophets!” The cawing turned to screams. Bernard’s leg kicked out and knocked the chair to the floor.

“Humbly, I supplicate Your majesty and Your glory: that You deign to free this Your servant from unclean servants.” Bernard was yelling now, “No! No! No!” over and over again so that Chas could barely hear John’s calm and uninterupted voice.

“Go out, therefore, Impious One. Go out, Criminal! Go out with all your falsehoods! God has willed man to be his temple!” Bernard’s voice wavered. He batted at John’s hand holding the cross, more and more ineffectually.

“From His eyes nothing is hidden: He has ejected you. He has expelled you. He has prepared Hell for you and your angels.” At these words Bernard stilled. His hands dropped to the floor, his head lolled backwards. Chas took a few shaky breaths and found he needed to lean against the doorframe. That had been … whoa.

John stayed kneeling over Bernard for a moment, looking into the man’s languid face. Bernard’s eyelids began to flutter. John slowly stood and stepped back. Bernard sat up and blinked. He patted himself as if checking to see if all of his limbs were still attached. He looked bewilderedly around the room, a man waking from a nightmare. Finally his eyes focused on Constantine. He burst into a huge smile. On the sweaty and stubbled face it was a disturbing expression

“I think you did it!” He stood and drew a deep breath. “I feel – light. Free!” He stepped quickly to Constantine and grabbed his hand. Chas tried to step back again and stumbled as his heel caught on the doorjam. He caught himself on the edge of the door, causing it to bang loudly into the wall. “Thank you! Thank you!” Bernard pumped John’s hand.

Bernard pushed past John and Chas to the kitchen. John paused to replace the cross in his bag, then hand the case to Chas. John followed Bernard into the kitchen. Chas looked around the room a moment. It was a wreck. The chair was overturned, the newspapers and medallions strewn haphazardly by the struggle and the water heater had a new shoulder-shaped dent. Chas smiled. He had done it. His first exorcism. He hadn’t screwed up. Technically he hadn’t done anything, but he’d work up to that.

He turned to follow John. That hadn’t been so bad, he thought. He could handle this exorcism thing. And now that John was asking him along, he’d get experience and soon he’d be the one straddling the sweaty, struggling man. Oh, yeah.

Chas entered the kitchen in time to see Bernard withdraw a stack of bills from his knife drawer and hand it to John. “I can’t thank you enough. You’ve given me my life back. I just feel so – thank you.” John nodded in acknowledgement and strode towards the front door. Bernard crowded after him, repeating his thanks until John and Chas were both outside.

The chipped door latched behind them. John stopped on the stoop to withdraw another cigarette and light it. He still wasn’t looking at Chas, he hadn’t, in fact, since he’d asked Chas along.

“That was, wow John! That was so cool. That must have been one powerful demon, huh?”

John finally looked at Chas, trying to hold back a smile. “That man wasn’t possessed.”

Chas was baffled. “But – you exorcised him.”

John just quirked an eyebrow and started down the path to the sidewalk. “But the demon manifested – all that yelling and thrashing and – that had to be something!” Chas protested.

“That? Oh, that was just theatrics. He probably saw it on 20/20.” John said innocently.

Chas’s confusion was quickly turning to anger. Anger, nothing. He was pissed. “But you took his money!”

“Yeah?” John asked and opened the gate to the yard. Chas stormed past him. He opened the passenger door of the cab and threw John’s case inside. He slammed it as hard as he could, just for effect. John was really laughing now.

“Here’s a hint, kid,” John managed between laughs. “People who need my help don’t usually call up and ask for it.”

Chas couldn’t believe this. John finally asked him on an exorcism – and it was a joke! He huffed around to the driver’s seat. John barely got both feet off the pavement before Chas screeched away from the curb. He had to endure John chuckling from the back seat the entire ride back to the bowling alley.  


**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story and the details of the rite of exorcism came from American Exorcism: Expelling Demons in the Land of Plenty by Michael Cuneo. Yes, I did buy a book on exorcism so that I could write better Constantine fic. Wanna make something of it?  
> Thanks to [](http://chuckro.livejournal.com/profile)[**chuckro**](http://chuckro.livejournal.com/) for a quick beta.  
> 


End file.
